Sleep deprived,
dream deprived,
this role I reprise.
Mortified,
I fantasize
a better life where I
won't wear a disguise.
Touch deprived,
love deprived,
nobody arrives
when my mind
will strategize
how to end my life.
You give me
compassionate lies,
you can't explain my life.
Every day's a fight,
don't sugarcoat this
to make it appetizing.
Appetite derived
from depressive nights,
eat my feelings
way before they can eat me.
This temple of mine is volatile,
violated by memories tonight.
Get the ******* of me,
I wish I could say it all now.
Breaking apart,
I'm always tearing at the seams.
I can't dream
if I can't sleep soundly,
Peace deprived,
PTSD habits combined.
Loud noises
make me want to escape,
I shut down when
voices raise up like
the dead look in my eyes.
I can't stop when it begins,
I'm relapsing again.
I hate those lustful thoughts,
I want a hug from the heart.
Something that isn't so primal,
that ****'s so uncomfortable.
I'm too human
and that's the problem,
more human
than they ever were.
Too human to handle hurt,
the kind of human which is
accustomed to the dirt.
We're all destined
to return to the soil
but not much
will change for me
'cause I'm already there.
I don't daydream,
I do it all while awake.
Recalling my trauma
is probably why I can't sleep
'cause my life's
already enough
of a nightmare.
Sleep deprived
but never deprived
of these thoughts,
I wish I could trade them
for a place to lay my head.
If these thoughts were currency
I'd be filthy rich,
far filthier
than my outlook
on the future.
This is chaotic,
probably idiotic,
a periodic paradox of prose.
These thoughts I propose
impose injuries
on my mental health
but what else
am I supposed to do?
It leaks out like
a water pipe bursting,
and every pipe in this
house inside my head
is pouring out this morning
because the sun is already up
and it's no longer
a nighttime battle.
24 hours
can feel
like an
eternity.
I can't sleep with these thoughts so I'll get them all out here inside a format-less entry.